All The Time In The World - A Series - Part 1
by elcho
Summary: Henry is 18. Regina briefly ponders whether her child getting into college and leaving home at eighteen is a punishment for good parenting. Emma commiserates. A series of chapters taking place during each one of Henry's four years at college.


**Series: All The Time In The World**

 **1: 18.**

Henry is leaving her.

He's basically already gone forever.

Leaning against the counter top, reaching for a second glass Regina can't help but allow herself be a little dramatic. She'd been _so_ good for hours, hasn't said a word about how she really feels - mostly because she knows if she starts she'll never stop - but today her once baby boy moved out of her home and started living his life a whole four hours drive away and therefore the woman felt a little entitled to her sorrow.

Henry's leaving is a serious upheaval for the woman who was once so terrified of losing her son that she tried to cast a curse on the woman she thought might steal him away. However, upset as she is, she can't help but feel that ironically she's not nearly as devastated as she might have been had said woman not been right by her side all day, if not all week, figuratively and sometimes literally, holding her hand through the experience.

Her son, no, _their_ son she corrected, wasn't running away from her. He had simply moved away to get on with the next phase of his life. He'd be back to visit her. To visit them both.

As for the woman, Henry's _other mother;_ Regina found that over the years she had grown to enjoy her company - however if asked she'd claim otherwise. The things Regina had found irritating about the woman in the first place - her clumsiness, attitude, existence and general approach to life - she had come to find secretly endearing. In the years after the shit-show that was Neverland, their arguing slowly turned into squabbling and later into lighthearted bickering. Their attempt to be better to each other for the sake of Henry had forced them into being pleasant, which later became cordial, and eventually friendly. Soon Emma was inviting herself round for Sunday night dinners at the Mills' home and Regina couldn't quite find it in her to hate it.

Regina knew there were other feelings bubbling under the surface that she hadn't yet allowed herself to think about beyond registering that they were there. The conversations in moments she had alone with Emma, which had become more and more frequent over time were often quiet and the words they spoke, though innocent enough - simple musings about Henry or commentary on their respective days - had become laced with undercurrents of something other than platonic friendship.

However that morning as they'd helped Henry pack the last of the belongings he was taking with him into the car Emma had bought him (something Regina had insisted on being there for the selection of to ensure the car matched her high safety standards. Not that she thought Emma would ever allow him to pick something unsafe, but because Regina had long made peace with the idea she might _occasionally_ be a bit of an over protective mother, and Emma was accommodating of thefact), Emma had done nothing more than turn away and pretend not to see Regina's tears when a stray couple made their way down her cheek or gently grip her elbow as she refused to acknowledge the slight shuddering of Regina's shoulders, the only indication that the woman might be anything other than okay. Today they had both been too wrapped up in Henry and their own conflicting feelings of simultaneous pride and misery to be anything beyond supporting friends and co-parents. She remembers a time when she would have choked on that word, _co-parents,_ but now she finds it brings her comfort.

They stood together on the side of the road and waved to their son until he turned the corner at the end of the street and he disappeared out of sight.

If Regina caught Emma facing away from her and brushing at a few tears of her own then she wasn't going to say anything.

Regina had fought valiantly for days trying to get Henry to give in and allow them to drive him to Boston. Well, first Regina had grumped about Henry being too clever for his own good and had she raised a less intelligent son then she might not have had to deal with him going off to college at all. But after a double, identical eye roll from Henry and Emma she insisted that she was only joking…sort of. Regina thought she and Emma were winning the argument for getting to drop Henry off in Boston, that was until Henry argued by going himself in his car he'd be able to take all of his belongings at once and that it also wasn't like he didn't have anyone in Boston to help him settle in. Which was true of course, as Henry's girlfriend Grace had moved there the year before. The girl was perfectly lovely, intelligent too, but Regina couldn't help but feel a little contempt for her. Plus there was the whole Jefferson being her Dad thing. Henry was her little boy after all. Before Regina could rebut his argument Emma, _the traitor,_ conceded and from there they settled on a weekend visit to Boston three weeks after he'd moved in - on the added condition that he Skype or call at least one of them every day in the interim.

The sudden quiet of the empty street was strange after a full morning of running around and nerves causing her blood to rush in her ears. She took a moment to collect herself and enjoy the calm stillness. She made it roughly five seconds before Emma and her constant need to be a nuisance made itself known.

Her discomfort manifested as a half laugh which bubbled out of her throat, before she could catch and she tried to turn it into a cough, blushing at the side-eye Regina sent her way then looking down and scuffing the toe of her slipper - because _of course_ the 36 year old woman-child is wearing her slippers outdoors - along the pavement.

Emma looked back along the road and sighed, "It's going to be so weird without the kid hanging around here."

"Well, yes I expect so, Miss Swan" Regina snapped, before she could catch herself. Her never were still quite frayed and it wasn't her fault Emma felt the need to state the obvious all of the time.

She felt an instant pang of regret at the looks of surprise, hurt and then disappointment that appeared on Emma's face in rapid succession. She caught Emma's shoulder before she could move away and let out a shallow breath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just-"

Emma cut her off as she nodded once in understanding, "Don't worry, it's okay. I get it."

They shared a smile before Regina became hyper aware of the hand she still had placed on Emma's upper arm and the short distance between them. She gave the arm a squeeze and stepped back.

Emma shuffled again.

"Do you think? I mean, would you like to-? No, wait. Can we-?"

Regina rolled her eyes and began to make her way up the path to her front door, leaving the stuttering blonde to follow her.

Her hip-bone pressed into the edge of the counter-top as her hand swiped through air, the glass she wanted just out of reach. She heard the door slam and Emma's slippers shuffling across the foyer, because _god forbid_ the woman do anything quietly or pick up her feet. She stretched up onto her tip-toes and into the back of the cupboard, causing her soft woollen jersey to ride-up on her right side. She got her fingertips round the glass she was looking for and dropped back down to the floor with a soft thump.

She turned around and met Emma's eyes where she stood in the doorway, apparently having been very intently watching Regina's quest for matching glassware. Catching Emma watching her wasn't a new development, but at least this time she had the good grace to at least look a little sheepish about it.

Regina smirked, Emma flushed.

After further consideration, perhaps Henry's leaving and putting both herself and Emma at a loose end, wasn't entirely the-worst-thing-to-happen-in-the-world-ever.


End file.
